


One Bullet

by luchalibrarian



Category: Psych
Genre: Gunshot, Healing, Love Story, M/M, Non-Canonical, Recovery, Therapy, character injury, officer shot, schmoopy love stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luchalibrarian/pseuds/luchalibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Carlton is shot in the line of duty, it's Henry's job to help him through recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> Non-canonical, however, I'd say it's set around season 4 or 5, just to place it somewhere in the vague story. I've always envisioned Carlton as a terrible patient. Yes, this is also more schmoopy romance. It's making my brain hurt. Dedicated to the Henry to my Carlton.

One bullet. One immaculately crafted Winchester Bonded PDX1 had possibly changed the course of his entire career.

Over the last two months Carlton had undergone three surgeries on his left shoulder, as well as the beginnings of physical therapy for his injury and intense mental and emotional therapy. Not to mention the indignity of being placed on indefinite medical leave while he healed. Mortal men needed time off to heal. Not Head Detective Carlton Lassiter. But the department refused to relent and he was forced to take time off. With pay, of course.

Henry had grown frustrated with him within two weeks. Carlton was a terrible patient and as soon as he found out he was on medical leave he’d regressed to behaving like a toddler in the toy aisle at K-Mart.

“Have you done anything today?” Henry asked as he hung his keys on the hook by the door.

Carlton was lying on the couch and glanced over at him, “Did you know Sami and E.J. are having an affair again? Salem is an incestuous cesspool.”

“Days of our Lives? Really, Carlton? If you didn’t go to PT and therapy I’m kicking you out for good.”

“I went, I went.” Carlton slowly righted himself and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m really sore, she made me do too much. I lifted a two pound weight over my head.”

Henry bit his tongue on a comment involving Carlton dropping the weight on his head. “Stop being a wuss. They’re professionals and know what they’re doing. You need to be challenged. And aren’t you the man who claims to have a higher than normal pain tolerance? ”

“I do have a higher than normal pain tolerance, you know that. That doesn’t mean I need to reinjure myself and have another surgery.”

“Quit whining. You’re fine. After dinner I’ll ice and massage your shoulder.”

Carlton made a face, “Noooo, you won’t. Ice is fine, but you’re not doing any of that horrible puncture wound massage on me again.”

“What about ‘quit whining and stop being a wuss’ did you not understand? Where’s the tough, stubborn Head Detective I’ve been dating for the last year-and-a-half?” Henry tugged lightly at the short beard Carlton had grown during his work hiatus and got the faintest smirk for his troubles. Combined with the unkempt salt and pepper mop on his head, someone who didn’t know him better would think he was trying for some kind of accidentally sexy middle-aged dad look. In reality this was Carlton rebelling against circumstances he was unable to control. “You’re starting to look like a bear, and I don’t mean a muscle bear. You’re more like a Teddy Graham. Non-threatening.”

“If I could hit you right now, I would.”

“If you hit me right now I’ll turn you in on a domestic. There’s no pulled pork sandwiches, potato salad, and cold beer in jail, Teddy Graham.” Henry leaned down and kissed him before walking off to the kitchen. “Did you go to therapy this morning before PT?”

“You know I did.” Therapy talk always brought out the worst in Carlton. It made him uppercase angry that he was forced to undergo therapy after being shot in the line of duty. He had suspicions there was more to the therapy order, but he’d as of yet been unable to prove it. Clearly his detective skills were waning during recovery. Probably due to the narcotics he’d had to take.

Henry had set about preparing dinner for them. Pork shoulder had been in the slow cooker all day and would be done within the hour. Barbecue sauce was added, and the potatoes were cooling on the counter. Carlton being home most of the day was good for some things. He’d managed to peel, cube, and boil potatoes for their dinner. Compared to the beginning of the recovery process this was a miracle.

“What’s new in therapy?”

“It sucks and I hate it.”

“I know, but you’re still going to tell me what’s been discussed. That’s part of the deal, Carlton.”

“Your deal is one-sided and I never agreed to it.”

“If you want to continue being a spoiled house-husband you’ll stop talking back and start telling me what happened.” The only way to put a stop to Carlton’s childishness was to treat him like a child. Somehow, it tended to work, though it generally came with some excellent ‘fuck off’ looks and silence.

“Carlton… I think we learned last week that I will spank you.”

The younger man looked sheepishly at the carpet, “you said that was a one time thing.”

“Talk, or you can add no dinner to that spanking if you’d like to make this a really bad night for yourself.”

“You’re a jackass.”

“Yes, I am, but I’m a jackass who loves you, despite my better judgment. Talk.”

“I don’t know why you want to hear about this crap, Henry.” Carlton plucked two beers out of the fridge, opened them, and handed one to his partner. “She wanted to talk about the night I was shot.”

“Did you?”

“Yes,” he said with a reluctant huff. “I still don’t remember what happened that day. I’ve read O’Hara’s report at least a dozen times and nothing. The last thing I remember is leaving the station and stopping for coffee. Then I woke up in the hospital.”

No memory of what had happened bothered Carlton more than anything. He prided himself on details and being able to provide an accurate recount of his cases. The fact that there had been no head trauma yet his memory was affected was something he couldn’t comprehend.

“Therapy has a chance to help that, if you’ll let it. That’s why you’re going.” Henry smiled and him and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not the first officer this has happened to, and you won’t be the last, but right now you’re the one I care about getting help for. I need you to be less stubborn about therapy for it to help.”

Carlton took a drink from his beer and gave him a one-shoulder shrug, “I’m going, aren’t I?”

“You’re physically there, but what about mentally? Are you paying attention to what she says?”

“Yes. And what you say. Neither of you ever stops talking.”

“Sure you want to keep that attitude up?” Henry said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “You don’t know how good you have it, old man. I put up with your bullshit because I love you and I believe in you, even when you’re being a huge pain in the ass.”

Another sheepish look from Carlton; Henry had a knack for pushing his buttons as he saw fit. “I know you do a lot for me, Henry. More than anyone else has or will. I’m sorry.”

“About time you acknowledged it.”

“That’s not fair, I acknowledge it all the time.”

During their conversation Henry had made the potato salad and was already making a plate for each of them. He gestured to the fridge, “pickles and another beer.” Once they’d sat down to eat Henry finished his thought, “in what universe do you acknowledge me or our relationship?”

“Hey, that’s uncalled for. I always do. Now.”

“It took you almost six months to tell anyone we were seeing each other, and even then it was only because you got caught with your pants down at my house.”

“My pants were on, Henry. You’d just had your hands in them.”

“These are facts. I’ve never hidden that I wanted in your pants. I had to wait for you to pull the stick out of your ass before I could act on it…”

“Again, uncalled for.”

Henry smirked at Carlton getting riled up and indignant. This was much more fun than him being cranky about therapy. “My point is you don’t publicly acknowledge us very often, even when we’re out together.”

“That’s… not entirely accurate. We go on dates and do things. You stayed with me in the hospital. I just choose to keep my private life and my professional life separate as much as possible.”

“Carlton, this might come as a great shock to you, but all of your coworkers know you and I are together. If they didn’t prior, they found out after you were shot. It’s not a bad thing. No one’s opinion of you or me has changed.”

“We’ll see if your theory is true when I get back to work.”

“You know I’m right. You also know you still have at least four weeks until you’ll be cleared for duty.”

“Four weeks? Come on, Henry. I’m ready to go back now.”

Henry shook his head, “Nope. Not until your surgeon and therapist sign off. You’re not going back until you’re ready. I know you’re going stir crazy, babe, but it’s not that much longer. Knowing you’re 100% will make me worry less.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yes, I do. I worry about you every time you walk out that door, especially when you’re on duty. Now I know what Maddie went through being married to a cop.”

“Are you saying you’re a cops wife now?” Carlton said with a smirk. “You are right at home in the kitchen and make great pulled pork.”

“Shut your mouth, smartass. Finish your dinner and do the dishes.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
